


Möbius Strip

by AvaMclean



Series: Wishlist Fics [2]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Crossover, Episode: s08e20 Moebius (2), Gen, Recruitment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-20
Updated: 2014-02-20
Packaged: 2018-01-13 03:49:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1211491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvaMclean/pseuds/AvaMclean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Buffy had learned quickly after her first few recruitment attempts what did and did not work with the smartest of the smarts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Möbius Strip

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jedi Buttercup (jedibuttercup)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jedibuttercup/gifts).



Title: Möbius Strip  
Rating: FR13  
Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all related characters are copyright Joss Whedon and ME. Stargate SG-1 and all related characters and dialogue are copyright of Brad Wright, Jonathan Glassner, Showtime and the SyFy Network. No infringement intended. 

Prompt: jedibuttercup/Buffy, Daniel/BtVS, Stargate:SG-1/ _Hmmmm... something different than usual, though? Maybe he meets her in a branch of the multiverse kiiiiiiind of like the Moebius one, except he's doing something a little more 'out there' than teaching ESL classes at a community college, aka working with the Watchers?_

* * *

Winter Park, Florida  
Park Plaza Hotel

 

Rain beat at the sidewalk, striking the concrete hard enough that it bounced up to speckle her boots and Buffy paused in her stride to adjust the umbrella settled against her shoulder. She let her head fall back, green eyes studying the grey sky above her—sunshine state her ass—through the clear plastic of the bubble umbrella, that were all the rage in Japan, before she sighed and dropped her chin. Blonde bangs fell forward to tickle the skin just below her eyebrows, they needed a trim, and her gaze lowered to eye the coffee shop directly across from her. A busy street was all that stood between her and the ability to indulge her caffeine addiction.

With a deep inhalation and knowledge that she was already incredibly late had Buffy turning back to the hotel and the warm, dry lobby that awaited her. She reached the awning that spanned the front doors and lifted her umbrella before letting it drop to her side and absently twisted it. The water splattered the glass as motion sensors finally took notice of her movement and opened the doors wide, greeting her with a wash of cold air. 

Her brows dipped with the air-conditioned chill that swept over her as she entered, closing the umbrella and glancing around for the courtesy bags that were usually offered on rainy days. Seeing none, she shrugged and tucked the umbrella under her arm before striding past the registration area towards the staircase and the Alameda room where the lecture was being held. The heels of her boots knocked a little too loudly against the carpeted stairs and Buffy slowed her steps, forcing herself to accept the fact that she was already more than fashionably late. 

She smiled when she located a sign that designated the room for the discussion and she glanced down, free hand lifting to push her down the sleeve of her trench coat so she could study the watch adorning her wrist. A grimace twisted her mouth when she realized the meeting about the ‘The Old Kingdom and the IV Dynasty’ had another hour and fifteen before she’d get a chance to speak with the lecturer and she sighed. Her mouth twisted to the side, lips puckering slightly before she adjusted the umbrella under her arm and made her way up the last flight of stairs between herself and the room she couldn’t enter.

A pointed chin lifted as the stairwell filled, several suited men, that just screamed professor, made their way past her. She turned with them, their mocking laughter oddly out of place in the quiet lobby as they continued onto the exit and more men, just a few women, joined the first wave. Buffy sighed as an assumption formed and she stopped her people watching to finish the few steps left and entered a wood paneled hallway. 

The exiting line of people led her directly to the Alameda room and with a sinking stomach and tight-lipped smile Buffy entered the spacious and almost empty room. The only person still in attendance of the lecture was the lecturer and he was currently removing his notes from a bulletin board with jerky movements that had Buffy taking a deep breath before asking, almost hesitantly, “Dr. Jackson?” 

“What?” He turned, presenting her with a much younger face than she’d expect, even _after_ reading his dossier, of someone who had three PhDs before he took a step forward and corrected himself with a shake of his head and, “Um… hello?”

He managed to make the one word a question and Buffy took that as an invitation to make her way through the rows of chairs, towards him and the front of the room. He stepped down from the platform, hands still filled with papers as he managed to meet her halfway and her smiled widened, became real because of the gesture and she offered him her hand and her name, “Buffy Summers.” 

To Dr. Jackson’s credit his brows only drew marginally together when he learned her name and she took that as another good sign as he shuffled the papers to one hand and accepted hers. “How can I help you, Miss Summers?” 

“Your research,” his smile dimmed and he dropped her hand, but Buffy pushed on, “about the pyramids being older than first—”

“Is this a joke? It’s not particularly funny.”

Her head pulled back at his vehement interruption and Buffy narrowed her eyes. “Excuse me?” 

“Did Steven send—” 

“Dr. Jackson!” The exasperation in her voice stopped him mid-question and blue eyes studied her, narrowed behind a pair of wire framed lenses and Buffy cocked her head before finishing, “What if I told you this world is far older than anyone believes?” 

His brows rose, well above the frames of his glasses and he was quiet a moment, still studying her with an intensity and intelligence that made her think Giles’ assumption about Daniel Jackson might be scarily accurate. He inhaled, expanding a wide chest that had previously been camouflaged by an ill-fitting wool jacket and unfortunate plaid shirt before he brought his notes forward, blocking her view and using them as a sort of shield as he stated, voice tired, but with just a trace of hope, “I’d want proof.”

Glossed lips spread, flashing white teeth as Buffy nodded and offered, “I saw a coffee shop across the street. Why don’t I buy you a cup and we talk semantics.” 

The corner of his mouth curved inward in a way that was a little too distracting for comfort and told Buffy she’d more than likely just used the word ‘semantics’ in the wrong context, but before she could correct herself or even begin to feel uncomfortable Dr. Jackson was nodding his head. “Alright. Let me just finish gathering my things and we can go.” 

“Sure thing,” Buffy watched him turn back to the stage before she thought to offer, “Need some help?” 

+

It had been seventeen very silent, very tense minutes since Buffy had given Daniel a watered-down version of Xander’s findings from Africa and Buffy found herself wishing she hadn’t asked for that double-shot of espresso in her latte. She watched him turn another page in the file and absently reach for the chocolate and walnut cookie he’d ordered along with this coffee, which he took with one cream and two sugars. Buffy found herself inadvertently cataloging the preference and contemplated adding it to the dossier the Council had on him, but before she could make a note on her napkin she was being studied by a pair of incredibly blue eyes. 

“Where’s the rest?” 

A slow smile spread her mouth and Buffy sat forward, reaching for her latte and ignored his question to ask one of her own, “What are your plans now, Dr. Jackson?” 

“My…” he trailed off, brows dropping and pulling together as he stared at her before understanding dawned and he prompted, “Why do you ask?” 

“I’d like to offer you a job,” Buffy watched him close the file and place it between them on the small coffee table before she pushed on, taking that as a negative reaction to her offer, and switched tactics, “I’m offering you a chance to search for the truth.” 

His brows lifted marginally and he asked, “What type of job?” 

“Mostly translation,” Buffy added, almost absently, the tidbit Giles’ highlighted in Daniel’s file, “It’s a chance to learn languages no one has spoken in thousands of years.” She kept the comment vague since there was no needed to mention that they were demon languages and scare this prospect off—she’d learned quickly after her first few recruitment attempts what did and did not work with the smartest of the smarts. 

Which meant full disclosures didn’t happen until she had some kind of commitment from the recruit in question and Daniel was currently scrutinizing her much like he had Xander’s findings. “Let’s say I’m interested. What happens then?” 

“Then?” Buffy’s mouth quirked and she absently tilted her latte towards him, “Then there’s more to that file and we talk salaries.” 

His tongue slipped out, flattened against his upper lip before it was pushed back inside his mouth by his bottom lip and Daniel’s gaze dropped back to the closed manila folder. Wide shoulders lifted and fell before he nodded and met her gaze once more. “Alright.” 

“Alright.” Buffy rose and his eyebrows followed the movement, bypassing the tops of his glasses again as he stared up at her confused and she explained, “Confidential information to be given,” she glanced around the room and made a circular motion with her latte in front of her before finishing, “Not so a private space.” 

He nodded, head moving rapidly as he rose and turned to collect his jackets, yes plural and both equally terrible, from the back of his chair as Buffy took possession of the file once more. She opened her trench coat and slipped it into the side slot, usually reserved for stakes, and took a moment to marvel at the fact that her coat still hung properly. Green eyes rose, caught sight of Daniel working his arms into the second jacket that was more poncho than anything and shook her head before gathering her umbrella and asking, “Shall we?” 

A duffle was added to those wide shoulders and Daniel tucked an oversized suitcase under his arm before he nodded. “Where to?” 

“That’s up to you.” Buffy stepped back and to the side before offering, “My hotel or yours?” 

A faint blush worked its way up Daniel’s throat to fill his cheeks and Buffy winced, suddenly remembering his financial situation as he stumbled, “I-well—”

Cutting over his excuse Buffy quickly amended, “Why don’t we use mine? I have disclosure forms there that I’ll need you to sign before we go any further.” 

Those brows tugged together as he questioned, “Disclosure forms?” 

The smile she flashed him was wide and inviting as she explained, “Brave new world, Dr. Jackson, brave new world.” 

He laughed and shook his head, clearly not believing her as he stated, “Please lead the way.”

+

Five hours and twelve minutes later Daniel believed and Buffy welcomed the newest member of the Watcher’s Council with a showering of dust and a hand up.

* * *

The end. 


End file.
